


Molten

by maple_tree



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: But Also Shameless Smut, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Non-Graphic Smut, i need a gf, it's mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maple_tree/pseuds/maple_tree
Summary: Everyone's gone on winter break except for Yoohyeon; she's missing something she doesn't pinpoint until she catches sight of a car while staring out of the window with the exact shade of blue Siyeon's hair was dyed in.
Relationships: Kim Yoohyeon/Lee Siyeon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 92





	Molten

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a *steamy* scene and I wrote this as I ate a whole cake and that must have affected my writing in some sort of way. In what precise way, I don't know. Any guesses? 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy, hopefully. And happy holidays! 
> 
> The New Year will bring lots of good things - I believe in it!

It’s never been explosive between them. 

It starts with Yoohyeon crawling into Siyeon’s bed one night, when the apartment is silent, when the sky is already dark at four in the afternoon. She wraps herself in the Marvel blanket and in Siyeon’s scent. December. It feels somehow warmer here.

When Yoohyeon wakes up, there’s a shadow over her. The black hair conjures up images from horror games she’s played recently, and Yoohyeon sucks in a breath to scream - before the figure turns on the lights and yelps, prompting both of them to jump back in surprise. 

“Wha - what are you doing here?”

God, she’s missed Siyeon’s voice. 

“I - was sleepy.”

“You’re weird.” Siyeon replies, and throws her scarf at Yoohyeon. It catches her around the head and she struggles to untangle it. The mattress sinks - Yoohyeon’s vision is only restored moments later, and Siyeon is a hell of a lot closer than she was before.

She smells like rain. Yoohyeon stares into her eyes for a full ten seconds before snapping out of it and sticking her tongue out. 

“Move over, I’m tired.”

Yoohyeon shuffles to the side and lets Siyeon rest on her arm. Her weight feels like dust settling - like if Yoohyeon moves, she’ll shake the warmth of this feeling into the air and it’ll never return in the exact same way. 

“Why are you back so early?” Yoohyeon whispers. 

Siyeon breathes, once, twice. She turns to look at Yoohyeon before answering. “I missed my bed.”

Yoohyeon raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“And you, of course.”

Siyeon kisses Yoohyeon on the cheek, just like that. Yoohyeon swallows and holds her breath, not sure if Siyeon can hear her heartbeat. Probably. It doesn’t matter, really, because Siyeon’s next kiss is on her neck and her lips can feel Yoohyeon’s pulse. Clouds condense in Yoohyeon’s head and she feels her skin prickle. 

“I thought you were tired,” Yoohyeon says, running her hand through Siyeon’s hair, “I thought you - god.”

Siyeon has her hands wandering Yoohyeon’s waist under her shirt and Yoohyeon loses her breath in the feeling of Siyeon’s nails scratching against her ribs. 

“Yeah?” Siyeon breathes into Yoohyeon’s ear. 

Yoohyeon squirms. “I don’t understand you.” 

“I’m not the one in someone else’s bed uninvited.”

“You’re the one attacking me.”

“Well, I assumed… since you were here…” Siyeon trails off and draws back, biting her tongue. “Was I too much?”

Yoohyeon blinks. “No, no.”

“Are you actually sleepy?”

“Not really. I just thought you were.”

Siyeon looks confused for a second - then Yoohyeon pulls her back closer, and she laughs into Yoohyeon’s chest. Something about that makes Yoohyeon wish she could envelop the both of them in a bubble; it makes Yoohyeon giddy in a way she can’t get enough of. 

“I’m not that tired.” Siyeon clarifies, muffled. 

“Good.” Yoohyeon turns them over, and straddles Siyeon. She’s pleased to hear Siyeon gasp, softly, before Yoohyeon kisses her, hair tickling her cheek. Simultaneously Siyeon relaxes and tenses underneath Yoohyeon - her lips are softer than Yoohyeon remembers.

Siyeon’s hand is resting lightly on Yoohyeon’s hip bone and Yoohyeon’s hand is furiously unbuttoning the shirt Siyeon is wearing. A split second later she isn’t wearing it anymore. And a few moments later - Yoohyeon has to break away to do this - Siyeon isn’t wearing anything at all. Before Yoohyeon can really appreciate the sight in front of her, Siyeon with her hair fanned out and chest bare and skin unmarked, Siyeon pulls her back in and they kiss until they’re both breathing like they’ve just performed for an hour.

And it feels like that too - in the blink of an eye Yoohyeon’s mind is buzzing, and she could do this forever, because each time it feels too good and too short. 

“Woah,” Siyeon says, “I thought I missed you, but -”

There are seldom times when Yoohyeon doesn’t feel like talking; or rather, when talking isn’t her priority. She lets her leg slide between Siyeon’s and the sound Siyeon makes causes Yoohyeon to suck in a breath. Siyeon closes her eyes and breathes out slowly, and she looks serene - and when Yoohyeon bites at Siyeon’s nipple, wasting no time, the calm hisses of breath are replaced by needy moans that send heat straight to Yoohyeon’s abdomen. 

“Fuck,” is all Siyeon manages to say.

Yoohyeon smiles and lets her lips linger a little longer. Her hands are already roaming, and they come to rest just above Siyeon’s pelvis. She’s ticklish there. 

Yoohyeon pauses. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah. God, yeah.”

With every breath of air onto still-moist skin, Siyeon’s hips move involuntarily and it sends electricity down Yoohyeon’s spine. Her head spins with Siyeon’s scent; she bites her lips to calm her breathing. 

Siyeon whines and grinds down and fuck, Yoohyeon is gone.

She slides her hand further down and touches Siyeon where she wants the most; Siyeon tugs her hands along Yoohyeon’s back, pulling her shirt up in the process, and it makes Yoohyeon gasp - the feeling of skin-on-skin friction, the coldness of the air and the heated trail Siyeon’s nails leave behind. Yoohyeon loses herself in it.

When Yoohyeon presses her fingers harder, Siyeon furls her legs round Yoohyeon and grips her tighter, closer. This captivity is wonderful. Siyeon’s breath is tickling Yoohyeon’s ear and the sounds she makes fills Yoohyeon’s entire head and makes her dizzy. 

“You’re beautiful.” Yoohyeon whispers.

Siyeon opens her eyes to look at Yoohyeon; the hairs on the back of her neck raise. She shivers, even though she’s no longer cold.

“I mean it,” Yoohyeon repeats. “You’re beautiful.”

“Mmm,” is the only response Siyeon can form. And it’s all Yoohyeon needs.

Shit. Yoohyeon thinks. I’ll never leave her. 

She’s going to be here, next to Siyeon, on top or below Siyeon, near her, always; it’s always going to be the two of them pressed up against each other in the exact same way, moving in unspoken unison and syncing their breathing unconsciously. Yoohyeon wonders if their heartbeats are synced too. It's silly, but it would be nice.

She loves how she knows exactly how to touch Siyeon - she hooks her fingers and Siyeon mewls, and Yoohyeon does it again and bites her tongue at the noise Siyeon makes, a sort of half-gasp and a hum at a pitch Yoohyeon hasn’t figured out yet but has already memorised. Again and again Yoohyeon grazes against where Siyeon is most sensitive, and only pauses to look at Siyeon with her eyes shut tight and hair all splayed out, lips molten red - and smiles when Siyeon kisses her, desperately, to tell her to keep going. 

“Are you close?” Yoohyeon asks. She doesn’t expect an answer. She touches her tongue to Siyeon’s nipple and the yelp she gets makes her grin even more.

“Please, Yoohyeon -”

A few moments later, Siyeon bites down on Yoohyeon’s shoulder hard enough to leave a mark and her fingers tangle in Yoohyeon’s hair, nails on her scalp. Yoohyeon gasps. It’s lost in Siyeon’s moans, a kind of music all on its own, chords played on Yoohyeon’s heartstrings. They’re so close to each other that Yoohyeon can’t pinpoint where exactly they’re touching; all over, everywhere, Yoohyeon feels the heat of Siyeon’s skin and more - she feels the scorch of Siyeon’s tongue, the warmth inside her.

It’s never explosive between them, but every time, Yoohyeon feels like her world has been thrown off-kilter. 

“Oh my god,” Siyeon pants, then swallows. “Woah.”

“Take your time.” Yoohyeon kisses Siyeon gently on her collarbone.

“Okay.”

Several minutes pass with Yoohyeon leaving intricate marks on Siyeon’s skin, and Siyeon rubbing her hands unconsciously over Yoohyeon’s shoulders. 

“You were eager.”

“I missed you,” Yoohyeon replies with her lips on Siyeon’s jaw. “So much.”

“Me too. I know you get lonely fast - but I didn’t expect I would too.”

“I’m glad you came back early.”

“I’m glad nobody else did.” Siyeon says.

“Mmm,” Yoohyeon licks her fingers. “I wonder how long we’ll have.”

“Let’s not waste any time, then -”

Siyeon flips them, and pins Yoohyeon down, far too easily. Her grin is absolutely fatal. She kisses Yoohyeon roughly, and before she knows it her shorts have been slipped off her and Siyeon has her knee between her thighs.

Yoohyeon moans into Siyeon’s mouth, arching herself into Siyeon. 

“Still pretty eager, huh?”

“Your fault.” Yoohyeon mumbles. 

“Sorry,” Siyeon bites Yoohyeon’s lower lip. “Let me make it up to you.”

Her mouth travels sinfully, slowly down Yoohyeon’s body, red splotches blooming like flowers all over Yoohyeon’s skin, trailing her lips and tongue and teeth everywhere, anywhere. As she gets closer, Yoohyeon’s heart beats more erratically. She’s trembling when Siyeon pulls her underwear down with her teeth and doesn’t bother taking it off completely. 

“Wow,” she says, appreciatively. 

It’s Yoohyeon’s turn to plead, but before she finishes her sentence Siyeon already has her mouth on her; there’s a split second when Yoohyeon still retains some sort of recognisable thought, and then the feeling of Siyeon, Siyeon, Siyeon’s tongue and soft skin yet rough fingers and firm hands on her pelvis overwhelms her. And Yoohyeon is an untethered ship and Siyeon is both the wind and waves. 

Yoohyeon can’t help but clamp her legs tightly behind Siyeon’s head. It’s probably uncomfortable for Siyeon but, as Yoohyeon looks at her for a split second before losing herself again, she doesn’t seem to mind.

“You taste so good.” Siyeon says and the vibrations almost send Yoohyeon over the edge. She can feel Siyeon smile at the noises she’s making - needy whines and sharp gasps - and Yoohyeon tugs at Siyeon’s hair, please -

She almost doesn't realise when Siyeon pulls herself away; only when she kisses Yoohyeon does Yoohyeon feel the loss of contact keenly. 

“I want to see you,” Siyeon whispers, her hand on Yoohyeon’s cheek like dust settling.

Yoohyeon does her best to keep her eyes open in the next minutes, but when she comes she feels tears prickle at the corner of her eyes, and she shuts them. She falls apart and it’s Siyeon who holds her together, kissing her just below her ears and running her hands up and down her waist.

It’s blissful. It’s haphazard, it’s dazzling, it’s monochrome and suddenly technicolour all at once - Yoohyeon wants to melt into Siyeon’s heat and live this way forever.

Soon, Yoohyeon relaxes. Siyeon stays where she is, unwilling to untangle herself, even though they’re sweaty and sticky. Lying there with no sound except their mutual heavy breathing - it’s cathartic, it feels like finally arriving at home, where home is a person and not a place. Yoohyeon is intoxicated with Siyeon; has been, for a long time.

“I love you.” 

They both say it, not exactly in unison but close enough, a millisecond after their eyes meet. The room is translucent and Yoohyeon can only see Siyeon.

“I never want to get up,” Siyeon says, resting her head on Yoohyeon’s chest.

“We can stay here. As long as we want.”

“Forever?”

“Maybe,” Yoohyeon smiles at the crown of Siyeon’s head, and plants a kiss on it. “That would be nice.”

“Mmm.” Siyeon agrees.

There are so many mushy, half-melted thoughts in Yoohyeon’s head - but she’d never be able to put them into words, and anyways Siyeon probably knows what they are, just by listening to her heartbeat alone. 

“We should shower,” is what she says instead.

“Later.” Siyeon mumbles.

“Your bed will get dirty.”

Siyeon chuckles. “I’ve needed to wash my sheets anyways.” 

So they fall asleep like that, in a bubble of warmth inside a cold apartment in late December; and they’ll wake up with a kiss and a lazy shower and a morning filled with lukewarm tea and lingering touches, and who knows how many days they’ll get of this - right now, it’s not their priority to worry.

It’s never been explosive between them, but then again, the dust caused by their collision never really settles properly.


End file.
